


Caught Between

by Mostlywinstuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Depressed Draco Malfoy, Depressed Harry Potter, Dimension Travel, F/M, M/M, Other, Parallel Universes, Suicidal Draco Malfoy, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mostlywinstuff/pseuds/Mostlywinstuff
Summary: If you had the choice, would you leave behind everything you’ve ever loved for the chance at a new life?What if doing so put your own life in danger?Draco Malfoy doesn’t really mind- he was thinking about ending his life anyways, what’s the difference if a parallel world does it instead?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Tom Felton/Daniel Radcliffe, Tom Felton/Emma Watson, Tom Felton/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Actual happy endings (ish anyway), Daniel Radcliffe x Tom Felton, Drarry, Harry Potter Fic, fuck it let's go drarry





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!   
> This is my first ever story on here and I’m nervous af but honestly I’m really into it so we’ll see if anyone shares my opinion 😂   
> This story is veryyyyy much non canonical okay?   
> It’s purely for fun.   
> I know I’ve got a lot of mistakes and I’m taking liberties with characters but think of these universes as two parallel ones, one very like our world and one very like the wizarding world m’kay? 🖤🖤

Draco sucked in a ragged breath and moaned as he willed his eyes to open.   
He was in a staggering amount of pain as he’d almost come to expect but this time something felt off. 

He hesitated, slowly growing aware of something soft underneath him and the soothing sound of raindrops.   
For what felt like the first time in ages but had probably been less than two years, Draco let himself lie still and pretend everything was alright.   
The rain continued to pound and he matched his breathing to the plink it made as it hit the roof.   
A roof. 

Draco bolted upright, wincing as a particularly sharp stab of pain ran through his torso.   
If there was a roof- 

Sure enough, as his vision cleared it revealed a clean, simply furnished room.   
Taking a deep breath, he tried to rationalise the situation. 

The last thing he remembered was running from a pair of death eaters like the pathetic coward he was.   
It had taken everything in him to disapperate and he assumed he’d passed out in the process.   
Again, nothing new.   
Although most of the time he’d wake up in a ditch or somewhere equally as embarrassing, not that he had to worry about little things like his pride anymore. 

But this- he cast a hard glance around the light, pleasant looking room.   
He was lying on an unbelievably soft bed roughly in the middle of the modest space.   
Light gray walls contrasted nicely with the blue carpet and deep red curtains that hung half open, revealing the gloomy weather.   
Draco frowned.   
He’d always hated red. 

Another stab of pain jolted through him and his vision wavered precariously.   
Wherever the fuck he’d ended up, he had to be on the move before those bastards caught up to him and finished the job they’d been working on since the battle.   
He couldn’t afford to stay anywhere longer than a few minutes. 

Sudden terror turned his blood to ice as he realized what he should’ve the second he woke.   
His wand was gone.   
Instinctively, he cast the summoning spell.   
When his nonverbal magic had no effect he desperately tried it aloud.   
“Accio wand!”   
Nothing.   
“My magic is gone.” 

And it was, most assuredly.   
He didn’t know how he knew but he was sure. Never before had he felt so vulnerable and helpless.   
This wouldn’t do- he couldn’t just sit here and wait to pass out again, giving the Deatheaters an easy opportunity to take him out. 

Shakily, Draco pushed himself to a sitting position. Something about the little room felt off so he scanned his surroundings again, with all the vigilance of a hunted man.   
The carpet, the clear glass window- then he caught sight of an odd stringed instrument and the truth dawned on him viciously. 

Muggles.   
This was a muggle residence of some sort. Thankfully the house - he assumed it was a house- had been silent since he awakened. 

If it was a muggle house, there was no telling when whoever lived here would make their appearance.   
Muggles were stupid creatures but their very stupidity made it almost impossible to predict what they might do at any given time. 

Draco slid from the bed.   
He felt tremulous- almost gelatinous, somewhat like one of those chocolate slugs Crabbe and Goyle were so fond of as he stepped delicately across the small room.   
Said room was pitching as though it were a particularly headstrong thestral. 

Through sheer willpower Draco remained upright and continued moving forwards.   
He paused at the doorway, eying the pleasantly silver doorknob as he listened carefully for any sign someone was approaching.   
All was quiet so after a moment he gently turned the knob. 

The door squeaked as it swung open - maybe that was why he didn’t hear the beast’s footsteps. Suddenly it was there. 

A large dog, it’s jaws wide open and tongue lolling out.   
It lept for his throat and Draco instinctively threw an arm up in self defense.   
He shut his eyes and braced himself for its teeth to tear into him.   
At least this was a fairly swift way to go- painful but quick.   
Better than he’d dared hope for. 

Instead of sharp teeth ripping into his forearm something warm and soft was brushing across it repeatedly.   
Hesitantly Draco cracked an eye open and was met with the creatures large pink tongue raking across his arm yet again. 

It’s face looked markedly not angry, so he cautiously straightened and extended his other hand.   
The dog nuzzled it’s big head underneath and he stroked it uncertainly.   
“You’re excited to see me, aren’t you love?   
If you’re supposed to protect the house I hope these muggles can get their money back.” 

She- for Draco felt sure it was a she- made a strange sort of whine in her throat.   
If the adoration in her large brown eyes was any indication, it was a happy noise.   
Despite the pain, his utter confusion and the severity of the situation Draco felt his lips twitch upwards in a half smile. 

“Well love, I’ve got to be on my way now but it was wonderful to meet you-“ another sharp stab of pain shot through his side and he gasped, tilting dangerously to the side before catching the wall for support.   
Locking his jaw, Draco freed one hand to lift up his shirt and survey the damage. 

Now that he thought about it, he vaguely recalled one of the Death eaters firing a sectum sempra half a second before he disapperated.   
Thankfully it had only hit his right side, which was now deeply slashed and oozing blood at an alarming rate.   
Draco scoffed harshly so he wouldn’t cry as he pressed his faded black shirt hard against the wounds in an attempt to slow the bleeding.   
The dog nuzzled his arm, her soft eyes now full of concern. 

“I should be upset that that’s the most concern anyone’s shown me in years and you’re a fucking dog but honestly-” Draco sighed.   
He rubbed her head again, a strangely soft feeling in his chest as she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.   
Honestly, he didn’t deserve even her concern.   
As he straightened she followed the motion, pulling back to allow his movement. 

Draco stepped out of the room, barely noticing the numerous framed pictures hanging on the wall as he staggered towards his escape.   
He didn’t let himself stop to think about what the fuck he could do without magic.   
The dog padded along behind him faithfully, as though she’d known and loved him all her life.   
Shaking his head as if he could get rid of the distracting thoughts so easily, Draco hurried along the hallway. 

The house was quiet.   
Fortunately, as Draco hadn’t a clue what he’d do if the muggles returned before his magic did. Speaking of which, he wasn’t sure what to do when he left either.   
What if something was seriously wrong with his magic? 

“In that case, I’ll wait up for those bastards and do my damndest to take a few with me,” he told the dog.   
She made a soft wuffling sound in response and nudged his legs with her great head.   
Draco had never been around dogs much, and he wondered idly if they were all this physically affectionate.   
If he weren’t on the run- literally- he might even get one for himself. 

She didn’t seem to mind his hoarse, scratching voice- he had no one to talk to, so why bother talking at all?   
In fact, this was the longest conversation he’d held with anyone in a very long time so Merlin knew he could use the company. 

The hallway ended in a modestly sized room which he figured was the muggle equivalent of a drawing room.   
More of those ridiculous stringed instruments hung on one wall and an enormous black rectangular device of some kind took up another.   
The ground was pitching so violently now Draco feared he might be ill. 

As he attempted to cross the room he had to stop and lean against the wall over and over, until he was finally forced to admit that he could go no further.   
He leaned back against the cool surface for support just as another dizzying wave of pain tore through his body. 

Automatically his jaw locked and his eyes shut, prepared to suffer in silence after years on the run when breathing too loudly could be the last thing he ever did.   
The dogs frantic cries pulled him back to the present and he forced himself to open his eyes, try to reassure her.   
To his surprise he was slumped against the wall in a rough sitting position. 

He’d passed out, then, but probably for no more than a few seconds.   
This, too, was not uncommon these days.   
“It’s alright darling, I -“ Draco paused, eying her. 

She held a smallish, rectangular thing in her mouth but as he stared she eagerly dropped it onto his lap.   
It was an interesting object, to be sure.   
It looked nearly similar to the large one hanging on the wall, only this pocket sized one had small buttons with letters and numbered engraved upon them.   
The dog whined again. 

Draco frowned at the strange device, his vision blurring alarmingly.   
Without quite knowing why he picked it up and somehow, his fingers deftly hit an odd combination of numbers.   
“Fucking- what the fuck,” he rasped half aloud. 

Suddenly the confounded thing was making a terrible ringing sound.   
Draco jumped, nearly lost his grip on the damn machine.  
At this point his head was swimming and he was half convinced this whole strange experience was a dream.   
The next few seconds confirmed this suspicion as a voice suddenly replaced the annoying ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Potter?”   
Draco slurred, a weak smile crossing his face.   
It had been a long time since - 

“Tom?   
Oh my god, Tom- it’s so great to hear from you!” 

Potter sounded delighted.   
Draco could picture the way his whole face was lighting up, his eyes shining. 

“How are you?   
I mean, like- really?” 

Potter continued but Draco’s sluggish mind finally caught the mistake.   
Potter would never be so excited to hear from him. 

They were enemies- rivals, at least.   
They’d hated each other for years.   
In fact, he shouldn’t be sitting here longing for this to be real.  
“Potter- I shouldn’t have-“

“Tom, are you alright?   
You sound-“ 

“Don’t fucking call me that!”   
Draco roared, abruptly done with the stupid charade. 

“This was a mistake.” 

“Wait- wait, please don’t-“   
Potter sounded almost frantic. 

Ignoring the knot in his stomach, Draco threw the device hard.   
It hit the opposite wall next to its mother with a satisfying crunch.   
The dog, who had been nuzzling him, pulled back and gave him a mournful look. 

“It’s- it’s alright, darling, I-“ but Draco felt the blackness closing in again and could only hope to wake before the poor creature worried too much.


	2. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys- bigggg trigger warning for this chapter okay?  
> It’s got some graphic stuff so please don’t read if it’ll upset you <3  
> Anyways I hope you’re enjoying the story m’loves!

“You’re sure you’re not overreacting?” 

“I don’t know!  
That’s why I called you, Em.  
He just- it’s the first I’ve heard from him in months and he didn’t sound- I’m worried about him.” 

“If you’re really that worried then I think you’re doing the right thing, Dan.” 

“You know, I was hoping you’d say that.  
Even if it’s nothing, Jason asked us to keep on eye on Tom while he’s in Africa this year.  
It had slipped my mind but now-“  
Emma cut him off, the amusement clear in her tone.

“Now you’re dying to be off, aren’t you.  
It’s alright, I won’t keep you from Tom- just call me later, after you’re sure he’s doing okay?” 

After promising to do so and exchanging affectionate goodbyes with his friend, Daniel leapt into action.  
He was sure it was nothing- Tom had been doing better for quite awhile now, one strange phone call shouldn’t be enough to make him lose his shit.  
The fact that he hadn’t answered any of the three times Daniel called back could be easily explained away as well- maybe he was busy, or had left his phone in another room.  
There was probably no reason to panic. 

“But here we are,” he muttered to himself.  
His hands shook slightly as he grabbed his keys. He pretended not to notice that, or how quickly his heart was pounding now.  
With one last failed attempt to reach his friend, Daniel hurried out the door. 

Rain awoke Tom.  
Not in the way he was accustomed to- the soothing sound of rain falling outside.  
This time, it was hitting his face and hands.  
If the sodden condition of his clothing was any indication he’d been lying out in it for awhile. 

Tom frowned, sitting up and surveying his surroundings.  
The rain was indeed pouring down but he had no idea what else was going on - or rather, he had no idea where he was.  
The dreary gray light of the day revealed gently rolling hills to one side and a rather forbidding looking forest to the other.  
Something broke the silence- muffled footsteps, perhaps? 

“Hello? Is anyone there?”  
Tom rose uncertainly.  
For several long seconds there was no response, and then the rustling came again. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said half aloud.  
He shuddered in distaste.  
On the list of things he hated about himself, his nasty habit of speaking aloud even when he was alone was definitely near the top. 

A strange feeling washed over him from behind and Tom instinctively ducked.  
He hit the ground and looked up in time to see a red light shoot past above him.  
If he hadn’t dodged in time- but his relief was short lived as another beam of light, this one greenish, hit the ground dangerously near him.  
“What’s going on? I-“ the terrifying projectiles were coming thick and fast now. 

“I must be dreaming,” Tom gasped.  
He leapt to the side and another hit the ground. 

“Give it up, Malfoy.  
You’ve done enough running.”  
The harsh voice suited the menacing character who emerged from the woods as he spoke.  
Dressed in dark flowing robes and bearing a distinctive white mask, the figure was unmistakably- 

“You- you’re a Death eater,” Tom breathed in disbelief.  
“Death eaters,” he hastened to add when another stepped threateningly out of the shadows.  
“This has to be a dream, then.  
There’s no way in he-“ but his words cut off abruptly as he threw himself to the side, out of harms way as another beam shot past. 

“Fight us like a man, Malfoy.  
If nothing else, you owe it to your family’s honor.  
If anyone had told me the Malfoy’s would be blood traitors one day, I would’ve offed them on the spot.” 

Tom couldn’t see the man’s face but the snear was obvious in his tone.  
“But I’m not-“ 

“Crucio!”  
This was from the second man and Tom, caught unawares, wasn’t quick enough.  
It was as though every painful moment he’d ever experienced was happening over again simultaneously.  
More painfully. 

Like his head was reliving the day he and his first girlfriend broke up, the day his beloved dog had passed away and the day he tried to end it all while his body - Tom couldn’t think as the pain was too intense but if he could, he still wouldn’t have been able to come up with a fitting comparison. 

It felt like hundreds of razor blades were slowly peeling the flesh from his bones whilst some unseen force crushed said bones into powder.  
He couldn’t breathe. 

Some part of Toms mind, however small, was still working because a little voice was pointing out how proud he ought to be for not screaming.  
Splitting agony in his head nearly drowned out the little voice but he merely clenched his jaw tighter. He may be completely at a loss as to what was going on, he may even be dreaming but there was no way he’d give these blokes the satisfaction of screaming. 

They were laughing now, the sound oddly distorted as though coming from down a long hallway. Suddenly another voice broke through their cackles. 

“Expelliarmus!” 

The pain instantly began fading.  
Tom watched through blurred vision, trying to make sense of the scene as a newcomer blazed into view.  
His coming seemed to bring light to the gloom.

“Petrificus totallus!”  
He fired towards the Death eaters.  
Then he whirled and his blazing eyes locked with Tom’s.  
His face was vaguely familiar but Tom wasn’t quite able to place it. 

“Are you alright?”  
He was striding over, so quickly Tom’s mind spun. 

“By Merlin’s beard- Malfoy?  
Are you- I mean, it’s been- you-“ he faltered to a pause, hesitated.  
Then his face twisted in concern. 

“Gods Malfoy, breathe!” 

Not a bad idea, Tom thought.  
If only he could unlock his jaw he’d try it.  
His saviour was kneeling beside him now, his hands firm on Tom’s shoulders. 

“Listen to me- I’ll - I’ll do it with you, alright?”  
He took an exaggeratedly slow breath and let it out just as slowly. 

Tom did his best to mimic the movements but his chest was still squeezed too tightly to allow any oxygen passage.  
Black dots swarmed his vision, covering the other man’s face as he leaned closer.  
He gave Tom’s shoulders a shake.  
He was talking, shouting really, but Tom couldn’t make out any of his words. 

The darkness loomed enormous, inviting, and Tom gratefully sunk into unconsciousness. 

“Damnit Tom, just open the bloody door!  
I’m begging you here.”  
Daniel paced anxiously, shooting the door- still firmly shut- a venomous look.  
There was no answer, not that he’d expected any after knocking a good six times. 

“Tom- Tom, please.  
I’m really fucking - really worried, alright?”  
Nothing. 

For the first time Dan wondered what he would do if Tom had-  
“I won’t let you, do you hear me mate?  
I’m not letting you go Tom, not -“ he broke off abruptly, unwilling to finish that line of thought.  
His anxiety was fast approaching full blown panic. 

“Sorry about this mate but you’re not giving me much choice,” he muttered under his breath as he tried the door.  
Miraculously, the knob turned.  
Sending a prayer of thanks to whatever god was up there, Daniel hurried inside. 

Not much had changed since the last time he was here about a year ago.  
A new guitar hung on the wall beside the large tv and- 

“Willow!  
Hey love, where’s Tom?  
Where is that bastard?”  
The chocolate lab licked his proffered hand pleadingly before turning and racing towards the hallway.  
Dan followed her, his breath catching painfully in his throat as he rounded the corner. 

Tom was slumped against the wall, unconscious or- unconscious, Dan repeated mentally.  
For a few long seconds he couldn’t move, couldn’t even seem to get a breath.  
His eyes raked over Tom’s still figure. 

His friend looked terrible- worse than Dan had let himself imagine.  
He was awkwardly positioned, like an unloved toy someone had carelessly thrown there.  
His face was harshly thin where it had once been merely delicate. 

Something in his expression plunged through Dan’s heart like a dagger.  
Maybe it was the utter exhaustion, maybe the pain that somehow showed itself in every line.  
He looked much younger than his twenty four years. 

Then something caught Daniel’s eye.  
A dark stain, barely visible on Tom’s black shirt but covering most of his torso.  
The horror was enough to shock Dan out of his stupor. 

He stumbled forwards, dropped to the ground beside his friend and pulled his phone out with wildly shaking hands.  
“Hold on, okay?  
I’m right here mate, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” 

Daniel was doing his best not to lose his cool entirely.  
Unfortunately his best wasn’t very good in this particular circumstance. 

Paramedics were on their way but it would be at least half an hour still and Emma was coming from further than that.  
Which left Daniel and Willow alone with Tom. He was still out cold, and Dan wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it. 

“Damnit Tom, why wouldn’t you pick up your bloody phone?  
Any of us would’ve come over or- or literally- I hate seeing you like this.  
We would’ve - would’ve helped any way we could, do you hear me?” 

Tom’s pale face remained motionless.  
For the third time in five minutes Daniel leaned close, checked his neck to be sure he could still feel a pulse.  
Just like the last two times it fluttered against his fingertips, weaker than Daniel would’ve liked but still there. 

Sitting there in the silence, Dan couldn’t help studying Tom more closely.  
He really did look alarmingly ill.  
His skin, nearly always pale, had an almost grayish tint besides the dark, bruise like circles surrounding his eyes.  
His breathing hitched uneasily in a way that physically pained Dan to watch.  
The black shirt he wore hung loosely on his body and even the elegant hand limp across his lap was harshly thin.  
His platinum blonde hair - he’d yet to let it return to normal after filming for the last Harry Potter ended years ago- had lost its sheen and looked mussed, uncared for. 

Daniel shook his head, cursed under his breath.  
He was trying his best to ignore the most alarming part of this scene- the huge dark stain saturating most of Tom’s shirt at this point.  
Suddenly it hit him.  
If that was- what he thought it was, then leaving it alone was the worst thing he could do for Tom! 

Setting his jaw in determination, Daniel inched closer.  
Before he could lose his nerve he pulled Tom’s shirt up.  
The wave of nausea that rushed over him was so intense he was sure he’d lose his breakfast right there if he looked any longer.  
“Man up- Tom needs you,” he growled aloud. 

Tom’s entire right side was slashed terribly- long, wickedly deep cuts that looked like they went straight through him and were still oozing blood at an unhealthy rate.  
Daniel couldn’t fathom what might’ve happened to cause injuries like this.  
His stomach heaved violently.  
He choked in a breath, told himself to imagine he was someone else. 

Someone stronger than him.  
Someone who could handle this.  
Harry Potter!  
God knew that poor bastard had witnessed terrible things.  
Maybe he’d have a chance at helping Tom.

Shoving himself into character as quickly as possible, Dan felt the shock and horror fade almost instantly.  
All that remained was the need to stop the bleeding right away and a sliver of fear - enough to give him an edge but not so much that it would render him useless- as he noted how much blood the blonde had already lost. 

He was no expert but it was obviously too much. Without quite knowing how Dan found himself leaning over Tom’s still form, pressing firmly against the open wounds. 

“Damnit, stay with me Malfoy-“  
Malfoy?  
That had slipped out quite unexpectedly.  
Well, it certainly fit.  
He pressed harder, willing the injuries to stop gushing blood. 

“Stay with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you so much I love you 🥺🖤


End file.
